Make My Soul Take Flight
by France1832
Summary: A Phantom of the Opera/Les Mis AU. Paris 1870, Rene Enjolras has been disowned by his parents and is forced to become a chorus boy in the opera house. Grantaire is the Phantom of the Opera who takes a great interest in the blond youth. E/R and Enjolras/Combeferre bromance.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: A bit of a weird idea I had while I was RPing with a friend and listening to Phantom of the Opera. **

**I hope you enjoy it even though it's kind of weird.**

**I've given Enjolras the first name René because I thought it'd be weird for everyone in the opera to call him "Enjolras". Sorry if that is confusing. **

* * *

René Enjolras danced around, moving his legs across the smooth surface of the stage gracefully, arms following his legs in sweeping motions as his fellow performers moved in unison with him. Most of the other performers were women, but there were a couple other young men with him.

René had been disowned by his parents after being arrested for protesting in the streets. He had grown up without the need to work or learn a trade due to how wealthy his parents were. Because of this, when he was disowned, René was forced to work at the opera. No other place would accept him, but because he was a good dancer and had a good voice, they accepted him as a chorus boy.

At the age of eighteen, René only looked sixteen and blended in well enough with the girls. His build was slight and graceful and when he danced, his body bent in elegant ways.

The music filled his soul, and although he would much rather be spending his time in more worthwhile pursuits, he didn't mind dancing. In fact, he quite enjoyed It.

"Thank you, that was beautiful!" The voice of their producer said to interrupt the dance. René stopped and turned to look at the man.

"Who are those men?" Cosette, one of René's friends, whispered into his ear.

"I'm not sure." René replied quietly.

"I'm afraid the rumors are true - I'm retiring. these two gentlemen will be replacing me." The producer explained And gestured to a middle aged man and a white haired man, both well dressed. "Thank you for your cooperation. I hope you will enjoy your time with them." The producer smiled. "Farewell!" And then he began to whisper to the two gentlemen. René narrowed his eyes at them and wondered why they had taken interest in running the opera.

once the old producer had left, the lead male singer stepped forward.

"If you want me to preform, I demand a raise!" the man who's name was Montparnasse said crossly.

"Well, why don't we talk about that later, Monsieur." One of the gentlemen suggested. Obviously he was a bit taken aback by the demand.

"No! I'm finished! Nobody listens to me! This jacket is worn through I want a better one! i look hideous in this thing! If you refuse to take my requests seriously, I'm done!" Montparnasse growled and left the stage.

"Don't leave, 'Parnasse!"Éponine - the man's girlfriend. - called and followed after him, but René knew it was no use. That man was pigheaded and determined to get every franc out of this, as well as beautiful costumes to humor his vanity.

the two gentlemen looked around in alarm. "What do we do now? That was the lead singer, was it not?"

"René could play the role!" Fantine, a woman about sixteen years older than René, suggested. She was Cosette's mother and the one who had helped René get the job in the first place.

"what? A chorus boy?" The younger of the two gentlemen asked and raised an eyebrow.

"He has been well taught." Fantine added and smiled slightly at René, inviting him to step forward. René felt his heart pounding in his chest as he took a step out of the crowd and faced the new producers.

The piano began to play the song and René began to sing. His lovely tenor voice filled the stage.

"No more talk of darkness, forget these wide eyed fears," René sang. "I'm here, nothing can harm you, my words will warm and calm you." As he sang, he imagined the only thing he loved - France.

* * *

Combeferre sat and watched the performance. The lead male singer fascinated him. He seemed familiar somehow...

"Can it be?" Combeferre whispered in awe and widened his eyes as the image of a young friend came to mind. "René?"

"Love me, that's all I ask of you." René finished beautifully and left the stage once the applause had subsided.

the blond youth went to his dressing room in hopes of escaping the adoring crowds. Thankfully, most people would be swarming Musichetta, the lead female singer, but René was still cautions. He didn't enjoy the praise from performing. All he was doing was wasting his life away in order to make a living. He would much rather be praised for changing the world.

"René," a voice from behind him said. He turned and smiled as he saw Combeferre.

"Combeferre, mon ami!" René replied and stood. The two stayed where they were in an awkward silence for a moment. They had only been children when they had last seen each other, and now that they were older, they weren't sure what to do.

Combeferre tentatively stepped closer to his childhood companion and after another pause, stepped closer until he was half a foot away. René put a hand on Combeferre's shoulder and the tension slipped away. Combeferre embraced the blond and pulled him close.

"I've missed you. How have you been?" He asked.

"I've been well enough, though I suspect you heard what happened." René replied And hugged Combeferre back.

"Yes, I was told that your parents disowned you. I'm sorry that I was away! I was at school, but now I'm back." He smiled. "I'm glad you've found a way to support yourself, even if it isn't what is considered ideal. Are you enjoying it well enough? You were wonderful!" Combeferre added.

René smiled a little. "Yes, it's alright. I would much rather be doing other things, things that matter more, but it isn't bad. There are worse ways to make a living. So many girls have to go into prostitution, I'm relieved that there are other options, even if, as you say, they aren't ideal."

A knock at the door interrupted.

"René, May I come in?" a man asked. It sounded like one of the producers.

"Yes." René replied and pulled away from Combeferre as the door opened.

"I just wanted to tell you how spectacular the performance was. Thank you!" the old gentleman said with a kind smile. Then he turned to Combeferre and offered a hand. "Monsieur Combeferre, its good to meet you both. Would you care to come and have a drink with me and some of the others in celebration of our success?"

"Combeferre shook the man's hand. "Yes, that would be lovely, thank you, Monsieur. I will be out in a moment."

The old man nodded and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Combeferre turned to face René again. "Come with me, mon ami! You ought to share in the festivities, besides, I would much like to spend some time with you again. get changed and meet me outside in ten minutes." he said cheerfully and turned to leave. René grasped his arm and made him stop.

"no, Combeferre, I would, but I'm afraid I cannot."

"why not?" Combeferre asked and sounded a bit upset, but looked concerned.

"My teacher, the one who taught me to sing so well, he's very strict." René attempted to explain. It was difficult because he didn't understand it himself and he didn't want Combeferre to mock him, although the childhood friend he knew would never have done that.

"Strict? How so?" Combeferre inquired at an attempt of understanding.

"He doesn't like me to leave. He would rather me stay and practice my singing." René attempted again.

"Well, every performer needs a break, surely he will understand! Come! I'll see you in ten minutes!" Combeferre smiled and left the room. René tried to stop him, but it was no use. Combeferre had already shut the door.

René sighed. His friend was right, he needed a break and he really did miss Combeferre. It would be nice to have a break. He took off his costume and took out his normal clothes. They used to be nice, but from nearly contrast wear, they were quite worn and dirty. He grimaced. He understood how the common man must feel. Dirty clothing made one feel so inferior, even though all men are created equal.

He put them on anyway and glanced at the mirror. at least his face and hair were clean.

"Insolent boy! This slave of fashion! Basking in your glory! Ignorant fool! this brave young suitor, sharing in my triumph!" a raspy voice called from nowhere.

René had never seen the creature this voice belonged to, but it couldn't be less than an angel. He had been told there were spirits haunting the opera house, and although the notion seemed foolish, he had to admit that in his case it made sense.

"Angel I hear you - speak and I'll listen. my soul was weak, forgive me. Enter at last, master." René called into the darkness and finished buttoning up his shirt.

"Flattering child, you shall know me, see why in shadow I hide, look at your face in the mirror, I am there inside!" The voice called again. René thought this was a strange request, but curiosity overcame him and he looked into the mirror.

As he looked, he could see something in the mirror and could hear a voice. The voice beckoned to him in an irresistible voice, as if enchanted by a spell, "I am your angel of music! Come to me, angel of music!"

The sound of the doorknob twisting in vain was so very quiet to René's ears. It seemed so far away and he couldn't pull his eyes away from the mirror. He tried to struggle, but he couldn't, even when he heard Combeferre's desperate calls. It was as if another mind and heart were inside his own, for he didn't wish to leave this voice.

It was then that the mirror opened into a door and René felt a hand take his own. A gloved hand covered in black leather. A pale face with a pleased and longing expression.


	2. Chapter 2

René felt his breath quicken as the mysterious man guided him through the hole in the wall. he lead René through the dark passageway as if he were a lady his his arm outstretched and the dark Angel of Music gently guiding him.

The blond youth felt a bit light headed and strange as if he were in a dream. They walked in silence for until they came to some stairs. René was confused when he saw them lead to water. Surely they would drown crossing that! But then the masked man - for he was wearing a white mask on half of his face - pulled a chain and a boat appeared.

René stepped onto it gingerly and nearly fell over, but the angel caught him around the waist and helped him sit. René had never felt desire for anyone, but in his trance he felt a light fluttering in his stomach as his waist had an arm wrapped around it, even if it was only for a second.

He sat gazing at the man. He couldn't tell what he was, a man, an angel, or a devil, but he was entranced. Still René couldn't remove his eyes from the form before him. All thoughts of the opera or Combeferre, or even France had disappeared in his foggy state.

The boat stopped and he was offered a hand which he gladly took.

"Come," the man said in his raspy, but attractive voice. René obeyed and stepped from the boat onto dry land. It seemed to be an island, but so much littered the area. statues and paintings, music and sketches. René looked at the man who had brought him here.

"Where have you taken me?" he asked, still in his haze.

"This is my lair!" the man explained and gestured around. "Do you like it?" He asked and smiled slightly.

"Yes, it's interesting." René agreed and stepped towards a painting. It was a painting of a beautiful angel who appeared to be asleep. "Who is this?" He asked and looked at the masked man.

"It's you." The man replied in a tone René had only heard used on stage. It was seductive. The dark angel took another step towards René and touched his face. René was startled by the gesture, but found he could not move. His breath came quickly as the strange man stroked his cheek and wrapped an arm around his waist again.

"Softly, dearly, music shall caress you. Her it, feel it, secretly possess you. Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind, in this darkness that you know you cannot fight. The darkness of the music of the night. Let your mind starts a journey to a strange new world, leave all thoughts of the life you knew before! Let your soul take you where you long to be!" the man paused and pulled away gently. "Only then can you belong to me."

René took in a sharp breath and continued to stare at the man before him. He was a little scared, but more curious than afraid. This was all so foreign to him, and although he would normally run, something prevented him. The man turned him around and wrapped arms around him gently, but strongly.

"Floating, falling, sweet intoxication. Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation." The man ran his hands along René's chest. "Let the dreams begin, let your darker side give in to the power of the music that I write. The power of the music of the night." The man finished. René felt something pressed close to his nose and as he breathed in, he felt his vision fade and soon he collapsed into the arms of the Masked man.

The masked man carried the unconscious youth over to a bed and laid him down gently. He lay there gazing at him for a moment and whispered softly, "you alone can make my soul take flight. Help me make the music of the night." And he ran a hand through the blond curls.

* * *

René awoke a while later in a strange bed. His mind had been foggy, but now it began to clear. He looked around and wondered where he was and in who's bed he had spent the night. It seemed very odd to him. Aside from the fact that he had no interest in sex, he was fully clothed.

He sat up and noticed the shape of a man through the certain. SuddenlY, it all came back to him. He was with a strange masked man who had kidnapped him and taken him beneath the opera house.

"Monsieur, why am I here?" he asked. "What do you want from me?"

The masked man turned and looked fondly upon the youth. "Come here, my angel, my Apollo." he requested in his raspy voice, but now it held a layer of sweetness to it. René obeyed and stepped from the certain into the dim light.

The masked man gasped softly and his mouth opened slightly as if he was beholding a masterpiece that a great artist had painted.

"You're so beautiful, René, so young and full of life and light and love. You're so full of innocence and mercy. I have heard you speak of justice and equality and though I don't believe in any of it, your beauty has broken me. I cannot sleep. My dreams are plagued by visions of you." He explained.

René felt an uncomfortable blush creep upon his cheeks and he stepped back slightly.

"you have a look of lust in your eyes, Monsieur, and I wish to leave." He replied a little coldly. He had been taken from Combeferre and his friend must be worried. Besides, that look in the man's eyes made René feel uncomfortable.

the masked man's face darkened and he looked away bitterly. "Does even my angel who speaks so often of equality and mercy and justice despise my presence? Do I disgust you because of my lair? You didnt shrink away from your friend."

"no." René stepped towards the masked man and laid a hand on his shoulder. "it is because I don't know you and because you have taken me by use of a drug."

"you wouldn't have come otherwise. You would have stayed with your friend." the masked man spat, but seemed softer due to René's touch.

"That may be true, but you had no right to drug me and brig me here! Even if I work in an opera house, I still am a human being and I deserve respect!" René shouted angrily. His vicious words were stopped by a finger on his lips.

"Stay with me, my angel. Would you like something to eat?" the man offered softly.

"Yes I would." René agreed. He was rather hungry and he realized he couldn't get back without the man's help.

The man nodded and stood. He walked over to a small table and grabbed some bread and cheese and meet. "Eat," he offered and René took it from his hands.

"won't you eat?" René asked.

"No, that is all I have for now and I want you to have it." The man answered and went over to a blank canvas.

"You have to eat a much as I do. I cannot accept your offer." René said and placed the plate on the table again.

the man paused in the midst of lifting his paintbrush.

"You truly are a remarkable man." He said and looked at René again. "I am your captor and still you refuse to let me starve?"

"it would be wrong." René agreed.

"Then I'll eat with you." The man decided and put the paintbrush down. He walked over to René and sat very near him. René grabbed the plate and sat it between the two, even though he was a little uncomfortable with the lack of distance between them.

They ate in silence, each watching the other as they did so, until all of it was gone. The masked man put the plate on the table and looked at René again.

René had been watching the mask while they ate. he found it intriguing. What did the man look without it? did he wear it to avoid being recognized? If so, why not have a mask for his entire face? he reached forward slowly and watched as the man's breath quickened. René touched the curly hair above the mask and ran his fingers through it gently.

The masked man moaned softly with pleasure and closed his eyes. René felt the slightest bit of pity for him. Had this man never been loved? Never been touched kindly? was he so starved for affection that the smallest and most innocent touch would make moan with desire?

René continued for a bit and heard the man breath his name. finally, René took hold of the mask gently and lifted it from the face. As he pulled it away, he saw red distorted skin as if it was burned. He saw fear in the man's eyes and the man pulled away quickly and clutched his face. He cursed with such pain in his voice that René felt regret.

"see why I hide away now? I am ugly!" The man spat and huddled in a corner.

René stood. "Did someone burn you?" He asked. The man stiffened. René knelt by him and touched his shoulder. "You haven't hurt me and yet you seem to cruel to others. What happened to you? What made you hate everything?"

"Leave me!" the man snarled like an injured dog. "I will take you back now."


	3. Chapter 3

René sat in his dressing room and stared at the mirror. He was glad to be back, but he felt sorry for the masked man, the phantom of the opera, who seemed to be in pain.

René had only heard mention of the phantom a few times, but he imagined they were the same. He heard a knock at his door and jumped a little, but turned and said, "come in."

Cosette and Fantine walked inside.

"René, are you alright?" Cosette asked in a concerned voice and knelt by him.

"Yes, I'm well enough." René confirmed although he wasn't sure it was truth.

"Cosette, René needs his rest. René, change out of those clothes and I'll have them washed for you." Fantine offered kindly and felt the room, leading Cosette with her. The door closed and René was left alone to his thoughts. He shivered, but stood and began to undress. He paused half way through unbuttoning his shirt and glanced at the mirror again.

The thought that the phantom could be watching him at this very moment was unnerving. René finished undressing though and found some other clothes to put on while he waited.

"René," a voice called gently. "may I come in?" It was Combeferre.

"Yes," René replied after a brief pause. His friend opened the door and came in, closing the door quietly behind him.

"What happened? Are you alright?" Combeferre asked.

René went over to Combeferre and touched his face gently.

"Have you heard of the phantom of the opera?" René asked quietly and felt his friend embrace him tenderly.

"Yes, I received a letter supposedly from him. Why?" Combeferre replied and stroked René's back as he spoke. René paused. He didn't know how much he should tell his friend. He was afraid though for the first time in his life.

"I was just thinking about him, thats all." René lied calmly. He liked being in Combeferre's arms. Even though he wasn't normally fond of physical affection, he found it comforting.

"You look tired. Perhaps you should sleep for a few hours until the performance?"

"yes, I think I will." René agreed and pulled away gently. Combeferre stood there and watched as René sat on the small cot.

"Should I leave you then, mon ami?" He asked.

"you don't need to." René said. "But I'm sure there are other things to occupy your time. is there a woman that you love?" he asked as he removed his shirt and laid on the cot.

"No," Combeferre smiled slightly. "Im not sure if I'll ever find one to my liking."

René nodded and thought of the phantom.

"A man then?" He asked quietly. Combeferre was startled.

"well," Combeferre began and looked at René fondly. "I do love you, but not in the way you were implying."

"You love me, mon ami?" René asked. He watched Combeferre sit down on the edge of the cot and relaxed as he ran a hand through René's hair gently.

"Yes I do. Do you love me in return?"

René paused to think about it.

"Yes."

Combeferre smiled and continued carding though the blond curls. René sighed peacefully and looked at Combeferre.

"I want to continue helping the people. I've written a few essays in my spare time, could you find someone who would print them?" René asked as Combeferre's gently hands continued to caress his scalp.

"Yes, I can certainly try." Combeferre agreed. There was a knock and the door opened to reveal Fantine.

"René, I'm here to -" Fantine paused when she noticed the two young men. "Forgive me, am I disturbing you?"

"no, Fantine, it's fine. The clothes are on that chair there. Thank you." René replied. Fantine smiled, took the clothes, and left them in peace.

* * *

"You will be playing the pageboy." Monsieur Javert, one of the producers explained to René.

"But the phantom instructed that -" Combeferre began.

"Montparnasse is a better fit for the duke." Monsieur Javert interrupted. "And your small frame will work well for the pageboy."

"Alright, thank you, Monsieur." René replied and returned to his room.

* * *

René stood on stage dressed in the pageboy costume. he was the ideal actor for the role because he was small and youthful like the pageboy should be, although less ideal because his voice would be wasted on a silent role.

Montparnasse was the lead male in the piece.

"Kiss me in his absence!" Musichetta sang and reached for René. René leaned forward until their noses were nearly touching and wrapped an arm around her neck. He disliked this role, but he tried his best to act well regardless. He needed the money and he could be fired if it didn't go well.

"Did I not instruct that box five was to be kept empty?" a loud voice rang through the opera house, reaching ever dark corner.

René froze and looked up. His heart began to beat more rapidly and he wondered where the voice really was.

"It's him." He breathed.

"Shut your face!" Montparnasse hissed. René stiffened a little at Montparnasse's harsh words, but didn't react more. The performance continued, but everyone was a little bit on edge. Suddenly, a prop fell - a small wooden bush - and handed on-top of Montparnasse. everyone gasped and Montparnasse cried out. René bent by him and tried to help him up.

"Don't touch me!" Montparnasse cried.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Please stay in your seats! We will continue the performance in ten minutes with René Enjolras as the duke! Until then, we'll give you the ballet scene from act three of tonight's performance!" Monsieur Valjean, the other producer, said loudly and walked onto stage. The audience cheered and René was escorted off stage to change.

he felt someone's eyes on him as he walked backstage and the ballet started. Eyes that burned and could see through him.

Fantine took his arm and quickly lead him away.

"Come René, let's get you your costume." her face was white and her grip was tight. She walked quickly and René followed, but wondered what was wrong.

That's when he heard something fall.

Then the screams.

He turned and could see that someone was dangling in mid air from a rope around their neck. The man was dead.

Fantine paused and someone else grabbed René's arm.

"René," it was Combeferre. "Are you alright?"

"We must get away!" René said and began to walk towards the flight of stairs. Perhaps his voice had given away his fear, but he didn't care.

"René, where are we going?" Combeferre asked.

"it was him, Combeferre, the phantom of the opera." René said, ignoring the question.

"How do you know?" Combeferre asked.

"I was with him. the night I disappeared? The phantom took me." René explained and opened a door to the roof. "He can find us in there with his eyes. His eyes that burn." René shuddered and closed his eyes tightly to chase away the images. When had he been so weak before? Not since he was a small child and the monsters had plagued him.

thats when the arms encircled him and René felt himself relax against them.

"Shhh, it's alright. I'm here." Combeferre whispered Kindly. René let his head fall against his friend's and returned the embrace.

"'Ferre," he murmured - a nickname he had used when he was a child. "I haven't been frightened since I was a small child, but now I am. It frustrates me. Why?" His voice was quiet.

"It is a natural reaction to what you've experienced, mon petit ami. You shouldn't be ashamed." Combeferre's wise voice answered.

if either of these two had looked behind a statue, they would have seen that the phantom had followed them and that his eyes would always find them, wherever they went.

"I should go. They'll wonder where I am." René said finally and pulled away. Combeferre nodded and stroked René's cheek.

"René, I love you." He said softly. René smiled.

"Meet me at the door in ten minutes." He replied and placed a soft kiss on Combeferre's cheek before leaving. Combeferre followed.

The phantom's heart had been broken each time a gentle word or loving touch had been exchanged, and now that the blond youth, his Apollo, had left to be with Combeferre, the phantom fell to his knees.

"I gave you my music," he murmured and took out a small sketch of René's beautiful face. "I made your song take wing, and now," a tear fell onto the paper and smeared the lines. "Now you've repaid me - denied me and betrayed me." He spat and gently dabbed the smeared drawing with his handkerchief in an attempt to save it.

"René," he breathed and began to sob. The sound of joyous voices filled his ears and with them, anger and hatred filled his heart. He stood and crumpled the drawing into a ball and let it fall from his hands.

"You will curse the day you did not do all that the phantom asked of you!" He vowed to the night sky.


	4. Chapter 4

Combeferre ran a hand through René's hair as they lay on the former's couch together.

"You know, I think I want to marry you." Combeferre murmured softly.

René laughed a little and looked at Combeferre.

"How could that happen?" He asked.

"It couldn't in this society, especially because they wouldn't understand why friends would want to be bound together in that way." Combeferre replied softly. René leaned into him and listened to his voice. It was comforting, especially after recent events.

"Perhaps then, we should make a vow of friendship to each other and find some token to represent it. Then no one would know, but it would still be meaningful." René suggested.

Combeferre turned over so he could look into his friend's eyes.

"I would like that." He said honestly and pressed his lips lightly against René's temple in a platonically affectionate gesture.

Combeferre took his family ring off of his finger and slipped it onto René's.

"I pledge to you with this ring that I will always keep you in my heart and mind. I will always protect you and keep you close to me. none will come before you, not even myself." he murmured and kissed René's finger.

René sat up and took the ribbon out of his own hair. He carefully wrapped the ribbon around Combeferre's wrist.

"In return, I pledge to you that I will be loyal to you and allow you to protect me. I will comfort you in return when you are down because in my position, I cannot protect you. I will love you and keep you in my mind and heart as long as I live." René replied as he tied the ribbon into a bow.

they shared a loving smile and returned to their platonic cuddling.

* * *

Monsieur Javert and Monsieur Valjean walked over to Combeferre and René.

"Its nice to see you again, Monsieur de Combeferre." Valjean smiled.

"Thank you, Monsieur Valjean, it's good to see you as well."

René glanced around the room as up the owners of the opera spoke to his best friend. Cosette caught his eye and waved to him happily. She was wearing a lovely white dress with some poor animal's white fur hanging around her neck.

René, on the other hand, wore a white shirt, black vest, red tailcoat, and a tricolor sash around his waist. If his vest had been blue instead of red, he would have looked like Liberté herself.

Cosette was about to walk over and join René, but a clumsy looking young man asked her to dance and she agreed with a slight blush. Fantine watched on happily, but René thought he could see something wrong as well.

"I'm back, mon ami." Combeferre said and rested his hand on René's hand. Just as he did this, the room went dark and a man in a white mask and blood red outfit appeared. René's heartbeat sped and he instinctively drew closer to Combeferre. It wasn't like him to back down, but the man frightened him and he was still quite young.

"Why so silent good Messieurs? Did you think that I had left you for good?" The phantom asked softly as he descended the steps. "Did you miss me, good Messieurs? I have written you an opera!" he looked at Javert and Valjean who remained motionless in fear and surprise.

"Here I bring the finished score - Don Juan Triumphant!" The Phantom announced and threw the pages of music to the floor at the same time as he drew a sword from his belt.

"I'll be back." Combeferre whispered into René's ear. René wondered why he was leaving When the phantom was right there.

"A few instructions just before rehearsal starts," The Phantom said. "Montparnasse must be taught to act." he came to a stop in front of the dark rose of Paris. "Not his normal trick of strutting round the stage." He turned to the managers. "And my managers must learn that their place is in an office, not the arts."

The Phantom paused and began to turn. René knew he was the target of the man's gaze now.

"As for our star, Monsieur René Enjolras, no doubt he'll do his best, it's true, his voice is good. Though if he wishes to excel, he has much still to learn." The Phantom walked towards René and René felt his heart quicken still. "If pride will let him return to me, his teacher, his teacher." As he spoke this last sentence, René looked into the phantom's eyes and the phantom looked back. So much pain was held there and René remembered that it was not this man's fault. He had obviously been a victim of the wrongs of society, even if René wasn't yet certain of what those entailed in this case.

The Phantom's breath quickened and he seemed intoxicated by the sight of René. René again felt pity for him, and for a moment, all the horrors this man had caused left the blond's mind.

René stepped towards the phantom subconsciously, as a moth drawn to a flame, and watched as the phantom mimicked his action. They stopped a foot apart and continued to stare at each other.

"See," said the phantom, gesturing to his garments. "Red - like the revolutions you love." It was said in a gentle voice, like a child, and René wanted to weep for the man's suffering.

He reached up to touch the man's shoulder, but as he did so, the Phantom caught sight of the promise ring Combeferre had given him and grabbed René's hand. He forced the ring off of René's long finger and hissed with venom,

"your chains are still mine, you belong to me!" And the Phantom ran back up the flight of stairs. René stood in stunned silence and watched the man. In a moment, Combeferre was running after him, but in a puff of red smoke, the phantom disappeared.

a hole remained in the floor. Combeferre looked back at René and then jumped in after the phantom. René went to run after his friend, but the hole closed back up.

* * *

Combeferre found himself in a room of mirrors. His sword was drawn and he glanced around. Where was the phantom? He saw a movement and spun around, but it was only a reflection.

"This is a death trap." He realized. He would try to fight this man in order to protect René, even though he disliked fighting and knew he would likely die.

another flash of red and again Combeferre turned. Three more flashes in quick succession. A rope fell and Combeferre watched his life flash before him. Someone grabbed his arm and he gasped. It was only Fantine.

"Come with me, Monsieur," she said and quickly lead him from the room.

"Tell me what you know." Combeferre requested after they had reached safety.

"Please, Monsieur, I know no more than anyone else!" Fantine cried and turned away from him.

"that's not true." Combeferre replied. "Please! Fantine... For all our sakes."

Fantine turned and looked at Combeferre with a sad expression. "Very well."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I'm sorry that this update is so short and took so long. I seem to be having trouble getting anything done recently, so I hope you'll forgive me and be patient. I'll try my best to update with longer chapters in a shorter amount of time. **

**Thanks! **

"Cosette, where's your mother?" René demanded as he grabbed the blonde girl's arm.

"I believe she went this way." Cosette replied kindly and took René's hand. "I'll show you. "

"Merci!" René said as his friend lead him up a narrow hallway that he had never noticed before. After a few minutes, they appeared at the door to Fantine's room. Cosette knocked.

"Mama, could we come in?"

"Oui, come inside." Fantine replied from the other side. Cosette opened the door and went to her mother.

René looked at Fantine. "Do you know where Monsieur de Combeferre-"

He was interrupted by gently arms wrapping around him and warm breath in his ear.

"I'm right here, mon ami." Combeferre whispered. René's breath calmed and he relaxed into Combeferre's arms.

"I thought perhaps he had Killed you." René replied shakily.

"I know." Combeferre said and caressed René's back comfortingly.

"Could we go somewhere?" René asked and took a deep breath to calm himself.

"René, you should stay here. There's rehearsal tomorrow." Fantine intervened hurriedly.

René didn't want to be there anymore. Maybe he could find work elsewhere. Maybe Combeferre would know of somewhere he could apply.

Combeferre sensed his distress as always and put a hand onto his face gently.

"It's alright, mon petit ami, I'll stay here the night." He offered softly. René's face remained serious, but a little extra light in his eyes told Combeferre that he was happy with that suggestion.

* * *

_Feuilly ran towards Enjolras. _

_"The police are coming!" He called. _

_"We mustn't allow our fellow citizens to be abused and neglected by prejudice!" Enjolras shouted. there where gun shots and Enjolras hopped down from his platform to see Feuilly fall to the ground. _

_"Feuilly!" He called and knelt by the workman. Blood swirling all around, filling Enjolras' eyes and nose, suffocating him. _

René shot up in bed panting. Feuilly had died. He blinked twice to clear his thoughts and looked down at Combeferre who was sleeping peacefully beside him.

René bent and gently pressed his lips to Combeferre's forehead lightly.

"I love you." He whispered and carefully stood. He needed to make amends. Perhaps Feuilly wouldn't have blamed him. René knew that he and his friends had known the trouble they could get into. Still, the fact that he himself was still living and the workman was dead troubled him greatly.

René walked outside of the opera house and towards the stables, being careful to grab his coat first. It was cold out, judging by the frost on the windows.

René had someone prepare a carriage for him and asked the driver to take him to the graveyard. As the carriage pulled away, the blond youth thought of the events last night. The Phantom had been abused by society and René wished to help him, but just when the masked man would melt René's heart, The Phantom would attack.

Meanwhlie, the driver of the carriage was trying to contain a small smile of sinister pleasure. It would be better if he could see the passenger behind him, but at least he knew that the young Monsieur Enjolras didn't suspect anything.


	6. Chapter 6

Combeferre woke up and looked at the empty spot beside his arm and sat up. Where was René?

"René?" He called softly. When there was no answer, the an stood and looked around the room carefully. Still there was no sign of his blond friend. Taking a nervous breath, Combeferre opened the door.

* * *

René got out of the carriage once it had stopped and looked around. The graveyard was misty from the recent snowfall and the cold wind that blew through his cloak made his skin feel the way his heart and mind felt: cold.

"I promised that we would rid our land of the remnants of the tyrannical days of kings. I spoke with words to paint pictures of a perfect world full of happiness and peace. That's what you died for, Feuilly, but now there is no one to remind the people of why. You've been forgotten." René said in a quiet and mournful voice as he walked through the graveyard towards the workman's grave.

When he spotted it, René carefully knelt before it and reached forward to touch it's smooth surface. An inch away, René withdrew his hand and cast his eyes down in regret. Would Feuilly even want him here?

"I dreamt of you last night, mon ami. I... I remembered what happened." the blond spoke softly. He raised his head and felt the soft, cold snowflakes brush against his exposed face.

"So much has happened to me since then. I've been disowned, and now I work at an opera. It was alright for a little while, but then...there's this man. He follows me everywhere I go - he's always in my mind. I can hear his voice and feel his touch. He took me into his chamber below the opera house and spoke to me with lust in his voice. He has a terrible face with red skin on one side as if he were burned. I pity him, but...he killed people, Feuilly! He killed innocent people! I want to hate him, but then I think about how something must have happened to him to make him this way. it seems the fault of society and I want to help him." René continued. "I'm just so confused.

"It's alright, René." A voice said kindly. René felt a chill go down his spine and he looked around. "Who's there?"

"René, it's me," The voice said again. "Your friend - don't you remember your friend?"

"Feuilly?" René asked in surprise and tears gathered in his eyes.

Now, some would ask how René could be fooled this way, for the rest of us know who's voice this was. It was The Phantom's. Perhaps it was lack of sleep or fear, perhaps it was a mix of malnutrition and regret that played tricks on his mind and heart. whatever the case may be, René was fooled and he stood and went towards the voice.

"Where are you?" René asked.

"I am here." The voice replied. "If you come this way, I will show myself to you."

René followed blindly, winding his way through the maze of gravestones and towards the dead trees.

"René! This isn't Feuilly!" another voice called. René turned his head to see Combeferre running towards him.

"What?" René asked in a voice barely over a whisper before The Phantom appeared between them. He drew a sword from his belt and pushed René behind him carefully And kept an arm snaked around his waist.

Combeferre disliked violence, but he loved his friend mor. And he had sworn to protect him. Combeferre drew his own sword and blocked the Phantom's blow when it came. Combeferre jabbed at the phantom, but the masked man spun away and brought his sword around to cut Combeferre, but the medical student rolled out of the way. The Phantom sprung at him while he was still getting to his feet and pushed him backwards. Combeferre dropped his sword and fell to the ground and became winded. He looked up at the man standing over him with a sword near his throat. The Phantom moved to kill Combeferre, but as he raised the blade, another blade countered it. He looked to the arm that was holding it and followed his eyes up until he saw it was René.

René was looking at him with a gaze that appeared fierce, but The Phantom knew there was pity held there. A perfect weakness. He had succeeded in planting himself in René'a heart and if only he could take René away from Combeferre, perhaps René would have him.

René struck at The Phantom and pushed him away from Combeferre with each play of his sword. The Phantom obeyed out of necessity not to either be hurt, or hurt René.

René noticed that The Phantom would block his attacks, but never attack himself, and he used this to his advantage. He had figured his body was too precious to this man to mar. Finally, René backed the Phantom against a statue and brought the sword to his throat.

"Drop your sword." René hissed as his shoulders shook slightly with adrenalin. The Phantom looked into René's eyes and threw his sword a foot away.

Combeferre watched and, for a moment, he thought René would kill the masked man, but then he saw a shift in his friend's eyes and knew he couldn't.

René carefully pulled away and looked at Combeferre. He ran to his friend and threw his arms around his neck.

The Phantom watched and picked up his sword as they embraced and kissed one another on every part of their face but their lips. He moved to stab Combeferre, but René pulled Combeferre away at the last second and the phantom fell to the ground. René looked at the Phantom for a moment before taking Combeferre's hand and running to the carriage.

"Now let it be war upon you both." The phantom spat as he lay on the ground in misery.


	7. Chapter 7

As Combeferre and Enjolras rode back together in the carriage which Combeferre had arrived there in, he pondered what to do about the Phantom. Clearly, he was too dangerous to be left alone. Something must be done to lock him up, or eliminate him entirely. There were few things one could do to truly make Combeferre mad, but hurting his best friend in any way was definitely one of them, and probably the easiest.

René clung to his arm as the carriage moved forward, further and further from the graveyard, but closer and closer to where the problem began. Combeferre tried to offer some comfort to the blond youth by gently carding his hand through the other's hair. It seemed to help a bit because Combeferre felt René's muscles relax a bit and close his beautiful blue eyes.

"Thank you for saving my life, René." Combeferre said softly. "I know how difficult it was for you."

René opened his eyes and looked at Combeferre.

"Yes, it was difficult, but only because I've seen his pain and suffering. but I love you, Combeferre, and I will always do whatever's in my power to help you."

Combeferre nodded and kissed René's forehead tenderly.

"I love you too."

The carriage stopped and Combeferre and René stepped out And went towards the opera house.

"He'll come back." René murmured to himself. Combeferre squeezed René's hand and took him back to Fantine.

"René!" Cosette said and hugged him gently. "Where have you been? You were supposed to help me practice!" She said in a scolding voice, but it was really just lighthearted teasing.

Combeferre nodded politely to Fantine and left.

* * *

"Monsieur Valjean, Monsieur Javert, The Phantom must be stopped. All of this is getting out of hand."

"What would you have us do, Monsieur de Combeferre?"

"we have all been all been blind, and yet the answer is staring us in the face. This could be the chance to ensnare out cleaver friend."

"Go on, we're listening!"

"We will play his game and preform his work, but remember that we hold the ace. For if Monsieur Enjolras sings, he is certain to attend." Combeferre explained.

"We are certain the doors are barred!" Valjean added.

"We are certain the police are there!" Javert said.

"We are certain they're armed." Combeferre finished.

"Yes, the curtains will fall and his rein will end!" Valjean agreed.

"Thank you for your help, Monsieur de Combeferre." Javert said and shook the younger man's hand firmly.

"You're welcome, Monsieur Javert. Now, if you'll excuse me, I am needed elsewhere." And with that, Combeferre left the room and went through the narrow hallways to find René.

He knocked on René's bedroom door and went inside when he heard no protest. The beautiful angel was sitting by his windowsill and seemed deep in troubling thought.

"René," Combeferre said softly. "I need to speak with you."

René looked up and nodded slowly. Combeferre went closer to him and sat beside him.

"What is it?" René asked. Combeferre took a deep breath.

"mon ami, I have thought of a way to stop The Phantom from hurting anyone again. We'll have him arrested. I know it seems impossible for us to find him, but if we perform his show and have you act in the role he wishes you to, he will attend. If that happens, we can catch him." Combeferre said and took René's hand.

"Combeferre... He's clever and cunning - how are you certain you'll be able to catch him?"

"I'm sure we will. The police will be there and they will be armed. Please, René, do this for me. I don't want to see you hurt anymore."Combeferre pleaded. René's breathing began to quicken and he looked away.

"It frightens me. Please, Combeferre, don't make me do this. He'll take me - I know he will - and we'll be parted forever, he won't let me go. If he finds me, it won't ever end and he'll always be there singing songs in my head." René said and as he spoke, his eyes widened and he looked like a frightened child.

"you said yourself, he was nothing but a man." Combeferre said gently and put a hand on René's slender shoulder. "Yet while he lives, he will haunt us until we're dead."

"Twisted every way, what answer can I give? Am I am to risk my life to win a chance to live? Can I betray the man who once inspired my voice? To I become his prey? Do I have any choice? He kills without a thought, he murders all that's good - I know I can't refuse, and yet a wish I could!" René took a few more quick and desperate breaths as he spoke and turned his eyes heavenward as he prayed, "oh God, if I agree, what horrors wait for me in this, the Phantom's opera?"

It hurt Combeferre to see his friend in such internal agony.

"René, mon petit, don't think that I don't care, but every hope and every prayer rests on you now." Combeferre spoke softly and caressed René's hand comfortingly. René looked at him and embraced him tightly. Combeferre stroked his back and kissed his neck, murmuring comforting words as he did so with hopes of the future where the Phantom would be gone.

* * *

Beneath the Opera House, the Phantom sat making preparations for that night. He smiled a sickly cynical smile and cried to the empty halls of damp and moldy walls, "Let my opera begin!"


	8. Chapter 8

"What are you planning to do once this show is over?" Montparnasse asked René in the dressing room as they both prepared for the show.

"what do you mean?" René replied as he grabbed the dress lying on a crate and slipped it on overtop of his undergarments. the skirt of the dress was a thin golden-colored material. The top half was dark, tight-fitted corset-like with a white flowing thing at the top that acted as a neckline and sleeves, although the sleeves kept falling off René's shoulders.

"surely you don't wish to stay here." Montparnasse scoffed.

"no, I would much rather do something else, but this is all I have." René replied and walked over to Cosette so she could secure a red rose into his golden curls.

Once they were all dressed and ready, René began to feel panic rising inside of him. In all his rallies or scrapes with the police, he had never experienced a feeling so uncomfortable and terrifying. He felt ill. He listened as the opera started and waited backstage through song after song, until finally it was his turn to enter.

He took a breath and walked onto the stage and began to sing. As he sang, he glanced up to where he knew Combeferre was sitting. Just seeing his friend's face calmed him quite a bit.

"Master," a male voice sang as René finished his first section of the song.

"Go away for the trap it is set and waits for it's prey!" Another voice sang. This one sounded different than it should and René had to control a shiver from running down his spine.

"You have come here in pursuit of your deepest urge, in pursuit of that wish which till now has been silent, silent." René couldn't resist the urge and slowly turned his head. He could see a man in a black mask with curly dark hair and lustful eyes. Could it be him? Yes. It had to be. The Phantom of the Opera was on stage with him and there was nothing to be done. The man lifted a ringer to his lips in demand of silence as he continued to sing.

"I have brought you that our passions may fuse and merge. In your mind, you've already succumbed to me, dropped all defenses, completely succumbed to me. Now you are here with me, no second thoughts, you've decided. Decided." As the man finished his line, he threw aside his cloak and René stood, although his heart was hammering against his chest. He struggled hard to stay in-character and look seductive despite the fear he felt.

"Past the point of no return, no backwards glances! Our games of make-believe are at an end. Past all thought of if, or when," the Phantom sang as he circled René and René mirrored his movements. "No use resisting! Abandon thought and let the dream descend. What raging fire shall flood he soul," he sang and took hold of René with arms wrapped around his front - one gloved hand at his neck, and the other along with waist.

René felt himself shiver against the Phantom and leaned his head back against the man'a shoulder.

"What rich desire unlocks its door? What sweet seduction lies before us?" The Phantom sang as he caressed René's body. Finally, he pulled smoothly away until it was only their hands touching, and carefully, he guided René towards the back of the stage as he sang,

"Past the point of no return, the final threshold," the phantom released René and René turned away and fixed his sleeve which had fallen from his shoulder.

"what warm unspoken secrets will we learn? Beyond the point of no return."

after a moment, René sang, "you have brought me to that moment when words run dry, to that moment when speech disappears into silence, silence." he turned to loo. At the phantom. "I have come here hardly knowing the reason why! In my mind I've already imagined our bodies entwining, defenseless and silent. Now I am here with you, no second thoughts, I've decided. Decided." And as he finished this line, he stepped towards thePhantom and his sleeves fell down again.

"Past the point of no return," René began again and tried to focus on sounding and looking seductive. "No going back now! Our passion play has now at last begun! Past all thought of right, or wrong," René began to climb the stairs of the set. "One final question, how long should we two wait before we're won? When will the blood begin to race, the sleeping bud burst into bloom? When will the flames at last consume us?" And as René sang the words "consume us," he watched the Phantom's face change and his eyes glint with desire, even stronger than before.

They were now standing merely a few feet apart and René felt completely vulnerable. As they sang together, they both stepped forward and The Phantom cast away his cloak and let it fall to the step in a heap as if it were entirely forgotten.

"Past the point of no return, the final threshold! The bridge is crossed," René felt himself be grabbed in a quick movement and arms were encircled around him again, taking hold of his own hands. "So stand and watch it burn! We're past the point of no return." The finished while the man behind him ran their hands along René's body.

René could tell by the more rapid breathing, among other things, that The Phantom was aroused. This thought made René shiver and want to flee the stage, but he knew he couldn't. He had promised Combeferre.

"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Lead me, save from from my solitude. Say you'll want me with you here beside you," The phantom sang. René didn't remember this part in the script and he felt panic rise inside of him again, but more than that, the words broke his heart. Now the voice wasn't full of lust, but real love. "Anywhere you go, let me go too! René, that's all I ask of -"

The improv song was cut short by René'a hand gently tearing the black mask from the phantom's face. screams echoed through the opera house as the man's real face was revealed. René felt guilt weighing down on him as he saw the agonized and betrayed look on the Phantom's scarred face.

René was about to speak, but the words were silenced by the phantom pulling him close and cutting a rope which was helping to hold up the chandelier. Once that was done, the phantom kicked something and René felt himself falling. He clung to the Phantom and tried to remain calm as his skirt blew up.


	9. Chapter 9

René was dragged down the dark passageways beneath the opera house. It reminded him of last time, but the time before had been much more gentle. Now the Phantom was gripping his wrist tightly and pulling him roughly with anger.

"Down once more to the dungeon of my black despair, we plunge to the prison if my mind! We'll go down that path into darkness deep as hell!" The PhAnton shouted and suddenly turned to look at René. He had a frightfully angry glow in his eyes and René felt that the look he was being given may burn him, and although René knew how to burn him back, he couldn't bring himself to.

"Why, do you ask, was I bound and chained in this cold and dismal place? It wasn't because of some mortal sin, but for the wickedness of my abhorrent face!"

René looked into the Phantom's eyes and reached out a hand to touch the man's shoulder. The man flinched for a minute, but then relaxed and allowed René to touch him lightly on the shoulder.

"Tell me what happened to you." René said softly. "I want to know.

"you want to know why I am so ugly?" The Phantom laughed wickedly.

"You aren't ugly." René said. The phantom looked at him in surprise and René thought he saw a hint of a smile crease at his mouth and eyes. But in a minute, it was replaced by pain.

"You know I am."

"What's your name?" René asked. The Phantom looked at him.

"Why do you wish to know?"

"I want to know who you are." René explained after a pause. The Phantom lead him the remaining way to his island and then looked at the blond.

"If I tell you my name and my tale, you will change into the outfit I want you to wear." The Phantom said. René was a bit afraid of what hat might be, but he nodded in agreement.

"My name is Grantaire. I was a Gypsy and born with this hideous face! My father hated me because I my mother died giving birth to me, and now I was ugly. He often said that she didn't die from the effort of birth, but from the fright of seeing my deformed face. He beat me and forced me to sit in a cage when we were visiting villages. The people laughed at me and threw things and called me the devil's child." The Phantom began with hate in his voice.

"After a while, I killed him. I strangled him with his rope and fled. I found this opera house and I've stayed here ever since. Hounded out by everyone, met with hatred everywhere, no kind words from everyone, and no compassion anywhere!" he looked at René with that look of betrayal again and said, "René...why? Why?!"

René looked down.

"You killed innocent people, Grantaire. You tried to kill Combeferre, and -" René felt a hand hit him across the face and he fell backwards from the shock. He head spun for a moment until his eyes settled on Grantaire.

The anger subsided in The Phantom's eyes and was replaced by regret.

"René..." He began gently and slowly went towards René to help him up. René turned away from him and got up himself.

"I'll go change now. Where are the clothes you wanted me to wear?" René asked coldly.

* * *

Combeferre followed Fantine down the steps towards the Phantom's lair.

"Keep your hand at the level of your eyes, Monsieur." Fantine reminded and stopped walking. She looked around nervously and tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

"This is as far as I dare go."

"Thank you." Combeferre said sincerely. He took off his coat and vest so he could move more quickly. He ran down the stairs and saw he had a long way to go.

* * *

René changed from his dress into a Greek chiton and fastened a golden rope about his waist. Once he was finished, he took a breath and returned to Grantaire.

"Have you gorged yourself at last in your lust for blood?" René demanded angrily as he walked towards The Phantom. The Phantom turned and looked at René with a gasp and a small smile. "Am I now to be prey to your lust for flesh?" René added with the same anger as before.

"That fate which condemns me to wallow in blood has also denied me the joys of the flesh." Grantaire replied and turned to look at his face in one of the many mirrors lining the side of the cave. "This face which poisons our love..." The man said as tears gathered in his eyes. "This face which earned a mother's fear and loathing, a mask, my first unfeeling scrap of clothing." The Phantom turned and looked at René who had now become once again sympathetic.

"Pity comes too late!" Grantaire spat and grabbed René by the shoulders and forced him to look at him. "Turn around and face your fate! And eternity of this!" He gestured to his own face. "Before your eyes..."

René took Grantaire's hand in his own and gently caressed it as he said,

"this haunted face holds no horror for me now."

Grantaire looked at René hopefully, but René was still angry enough to utter the following cold and cruel words.

"It's in your soul that the true distortion lies."


	10. Chapter 10

After having nearly drowned from falling down a trapdoor and into a chamber of water, Combeferre emerged. He was very grateful that he had thought to remove unnecessary layers since he would have drowned with them.

He continued through the damp passageway until he game to a gate. He could see René standing and wearing a Greek garment. His breath was momentarily taken away as he gazed at his friend who had transformed into Apollo, but then he remembered that his friend was in danger.

* * *

Grantaire heard something and looked up.

"Wait, I think, my dear, we have a guest!" He said to René and then looked back at Combeferre. René followed his gaze and spotted his friend and platonic lover.

"Combeferre!" He called and took a step towards him.

"Sir, this is indeed an unparrelleled delight, I had rather hoped that you would come. And now, my wish comes true." the Phantom said in a sickly sweet voice, and then, he snaked his arm around René's waist and pulled him close.

"Let me go!" René hissed.

"Free him!" Combeferre called and struggled against the bars. "Do what you like, only free him! Have you no pity?"

Grantaire laughed and looked at René. He ran his hands through the golden curls and breathed close to the blond's cheek.

"Your lover makes a passionate plea." He mocked.

"Combeferre, it's useless." René said softly to Combeferre and turned his head away fromThe Phantom.

"I love him! Does that mean nothing?" Combeferre cried passionately with great pain in his voice as he shook the bars again and reached an arm through in a vain attempt to reach René. "I love him! Show some compassion!"

"The world showed no compassion to me!" The Phantom roared and brought René closer to him.

"René, René!" Combeferre said desperately. "Let me see him!" The Phantom grinned and let go of René.

"Be my guest, sir!" He agreed and pulled a lever to open the gate. "Monsieur, I bid you welcome. Did you think that I would harm him?" The gate came up and Combeferre immediately walked through. "Why would I make him pay for the sins," the gate came down and Combeferre turned back in alarm. "For the sins which are yours!" The Phantom cried and sprung at Combeferre, pinning him to the gate and tying him up.

"Combeferre! Let him go!" René cried angrily and moved towards them.

"If you come closer, I'll kill him!" The Phantom warned. René froze. "Order your fine horses now," Grantaire taunted. "Raise up your hand to the level of your eyes! Nothing can save you now, except, perhaps, René." The Phantom turned to look at the blond youth.

"Start a new life with me! Buy his freedom with your love!" Grantaire offered. René was about to decline, but the Phantom raised a finger and continued, "refuse me and you'll send your lover to his grave! This is the choice - this is the point of no return!"

René felt terror and agony grip his heart and he looked at the man he had once felt pity for with hatred.

"The tears I might have shed for your dark fate, grow cold and turn to tears of hate!" He cried with burning fire and hatred.

"René, forgive me, please forgive me! I was trying to save you and it was all for nothing!" Combeferre said helplessly and began to cry as the Phantom pulled slightly on the rope around his neck.

"It's too late for turning back - too late for prayers and useless pity!" Grantaire spat.

"If you say you love him, then my life is over, René. Either way you chose he has to win." Combeferre said.

"So do you end your days with me, or do you send him to his grave?" Grantaire demanded.

"Why make him lie to you to save me?" Combeferre retorted. René felt as if his heart were about to break in two. How could Grantaire be so cruel to him? If he chose eigher one, he would be miserable all his days.

"For pity's sake, René, say no!" Combeferre pleaded. "Don't throw your life away for my sake!"

"I have no life, Combeferre! I have nothing! You are all there is, and now I will lose you too!" And tears began to gather in the golden angel's eyes.

"I'm sorry René, I fought so hard to free you." Combeferre murmured softly.

"you deceived me. I gave my mind blindly!" René spat to the Phantom.

"You try my patience! Make your choice!" Grantaire demanded. Rene looked at the man before her and once again saw the desperation for love, the anguish, the hatred, the need for affection. It was society who had done this to him and he deserved pity. René felt a deep sadness in his heart and he was reminded of the feelings (whatever they were) for Grantaire.

"Pitiful creature of darkness," René began softly. "What kind of life have you known?" he took a breath and stepped forward. "God give me courage to show you, you are not alone!"

René stood before Grantaire and looked into his eyes. The man seemed startled, but hopeful. His eyes were full of pain and hope and love. René touched his face gently and moved closer. His breath was quick and his heart was pounding, but he was sure of this. He took another breath and closed the gap between them, gently pressing his lips against The Phantom's.

Grantaire's whole being surged with energy and he kissed René back instantly. Their kiss soon deepened and Grantaire ran his longing fingers through René's hair. It was René who pulled away first, but he did so as tenderly as he had broguth their lips together. He looked into the eyes of the Phantom and watched as Grantaire smiled a little.

René smiled back and kissed Grantaire again and caressed his cheek. This time, Grantaire pulled away first and laughed a little in delight. René smiled back, but then he noticed Grantaire's face falling and a look of anguish settle on his now handsome features. René moved to touch him again, but Grantaire moved back.

"Take him! Forget me, forget all of this!" The phantom cried to Combeferre and waved his hand dismissively. "Leave me alone! Forget all you see! Go now don't let them find you!" Grantaire begged. René tried to protest, but Grantaire silenced him again with more tormented words. "Take the boat. Swear to me, never to tell the secret you know of the angel in Hell!"

Combeferre nodded and gestured for René to go to him. René obeyed and embraced Combeferre lovingly. They whispered things into each other's ears and clung to each other in desperate joy.

"Go now! Go now and leave me!" Grantaire shouted and went to the curtained off area where René had once slept. He hat on the silken sheets and tried to imagine René's smell. He tried to remember how his lips had felt pressed against his own and how the man may have grown to love him, but he reasoned that the love Rene had shown to him was only pity and love for Combeferre.

"Masquerade, paper faces on parade, masquerade," Grantaire sang softly as the tears stained the silk. "Hide your face so the world will never find you." He heard a sound and looked up to see Apollo standing there again. Could it be?

"René, I love you." Grantaire said softly. René's face fell and he kelt by Grantaire and the silken bed and gently removed the ring that Combeferre had given him from Grantaire's finger. In replacement, René handed Grantaire his dreSS and carded his hand through Grantaire's dark curls.

René smoothed the hair away from Grantaire's face and lend down to press his lips against Grantaire's one last time. The kiss was soft and barely there, as if an angel had kissed him instead if a man, and then René stood and was gone.

"You alone can make my soul take flight," Grantaire whispered into the darkness. He stood and went over to his mirrors. "It's over now, the music of the night!" he cried and smashed the mirrors. He hit the first one until it lay in pieces and moved to the second and then the third. when the fourth broke, Grantaire opened a curtain and disappeared into the darkness.

* * *

René Enjolras went to live with Combeferre and continued to write and work on bettering society. He never returned to the opera house, but sometimes Combeferre would catch him gazing off into the distance with a haunted look in his eyes. The Phantom had disappeared, but René would never forget him. The man had touched his heart, and René loved him. Still though, René loved Combeferre more.

The End


End file.
